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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561611">Lies Have Never Tasted So Sweet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzyfandoms/pseuds/Izzyfandoms'>Izzyfandoms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Series Of Soulmate AUs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, this is a 'sense when your soulmate lies' soulmate au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:40:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzyfandoms/pseuds/Izzyfandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emile was someone who always liked to look on the bright side of things. </p>
<p>He liked to stay positive – to be cheerful and happy as much as possible, for both himself and those he surrounded himself with. Happiness spread happiness, and he was a sunshiny influence on everyone around him. </p>
<p>But sometimes it was difficult to stay positive, with Emile’s soulbond being the way it was. Out of all the different kinds of soulbonds in the world – and there were many, many kinds – the ability to tell when your soulmate was lying was the one that led to the least number of meetings. It wasn’t a way to communicate, nor was it a way for them to track each other down, nor was it a way to identify their first meeting. It was useful for soulmates who’d already met, but didn’t really come in handy when trying to find them in the first place. </p>
<p>It was difficult, sometimes, to stay positive that one day Emile would meet the love of his life.  </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders &amp; Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Dr. Emile Picani</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Series Of Soulmate AUs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lies Have Never Tasted So Sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emile was someone who always liked to look on the bright side of things.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He liked to stay positive – to be cheerful and happy as much as possible, for both himself and those he surrounded himself with. Happiness spread happiness, and he was a sunshiny influence on everyone around him.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But sometimes it was difficult to stay positive, with Emile’s </span>
  <span>soulbond</span>
  <span> being the way it was. Out of all the different kinds of </span>
  <span>soulbonds</span>
  <span> in the world – and there were many, many kinds – the ability to tell when your soulmate was lying was the one that led to the least number of meetings. It wasn’t a way to communicate, nor was it a way for them to track each other down, nor was it a way to identify their first meeting. It was useful for soulmates who’d already met, but didn’t really come in handy when trying to find them in the first place.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was difficult, sometimes, to stay positive that one day Emile would meet the love of his life. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried, though. He tried to be positive and hopeful, and he also tried to be truthful – or stick to little white lies that hurt no one, because he needed to make sure his soulmate could still find him, even if dishonesty made him uncomfortable.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, his soulmate had no such qualms. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fireworks that burst in Emile’s chest whenever his soulmate told a lie were undoubtably a good feeling: sometimes making him so bubbly he giggled. But their frequency was often... concerning, as he could never forget that every firework was set off by a lie.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>What kind of person was Emile’s soulmate, if they lied so much and so often?</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And what did that say about Emile, that that kind of person was his soulmate?</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Emile wasn’t one to judge so quickly. All he wanted was to meet his soulmate, and he knew he’d love them no matter what.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing Emile noticed when he woke up was the firework-like feeling in his heart, earlier than usual, but not too surprising. It happened once. Twice. Thrice. Four times in a row, before it calmed down again, and Emile took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for it to start up again.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his surprise, it didn’t, so he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He patted his bedside table a few times, before finding his glasses and slipping them on.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fireworks returned once in the shower, startling and causing him to almost slip, though he caught himself just in time.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twice during breakfast.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>(The first happened while he was pouring milk into cereal, making him jolt and spill milk over the side of the bowl.)</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then it didn’t happen again until Emile reached the building he worked at, which was simultaneously both a disappointment and a relief: a feeling which Emile was rather used to at this point. As he approached the front doors, he could hear two young men about his age having a conversation just between the building Emile worked at and the next. They were only a few feet away from him, and talking loudly enough, so Emile overheard them without having to strain to listen.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>the shirt you have on, Remus,” said a </span>
  <span>masculine voice</span>
  <span>, dripping with sarcasm.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the words left his mouth, a firework went off in Emile’s chest, and he paused, his hand freezing halfway to the handle of the door. He swallowed. Was that a coincidence, just some interesting timing? Or...</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another voice laughed loudly, followed by the sound of someone clapping another on the back. “Ha! I see you’re still as </span>
  <span>dickish</span>
  <span> as ever, Jan. Never change!”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I see your clothes are just as </span>
  <em>
    <span>clean </span>
  </em>
  <span>as ever.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another firework.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emile turned his head, finally taking a look at the man with either impeccable timing or a soul that would fit his perfectly. He was short, though Emile was, too, with curly black hair, a yellow button-up shirt and a black bowler hat on his head. There was a shiny, coiled snake-shaped earring hanging from the one ear that Emile could see, and he wore a pair of clean, lemon yellow gloves. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His expression was amused, with a half-smirk and raised eyebrows, and he was by far the most attractive man Emile had ever seen. Emile’s breath caught in his throat, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he figured he should probably check first, just in case he was wrong, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emile pulled his hand back from the door handle. He snuck a quick glance at his watch. There was still half an hour left until his first patient of the day arrived. He let out a sigh of relief. He had time to wait, and listen to the man who he hoped would start lying again.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eavesdropping was probably incredibly unsubtle, but the man wasn’t facing Emile, his attention fully on the friend in front of him, so he fortunately didn’t notice.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is Roman?” Emile’s maybe-soulmate asked his friend.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The friend blew a raspberry. “He sucks! He’s so annoying. Yesterday, he stole my cereal, and then he wouldn’t even admit to it! Asshole.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The maybe-soulmate clicked his tongue. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have my sympathies,” he spoke in that same smooth, sarcastic tone, with a slight hiss on the ‘s’, making his friend let out an exaggerated mock-offended sound, hand over heart.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Firework.)</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rude! You know, maybe you’d get laid more if you weren’t such a bitch.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Firework.)</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever. Did you know that ducks have corkscrew-shaped penises?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The maybe-soulmate let out a disgusted sound. “Wow. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>glad you told me that.” (Firework.) He then let out a sigh. “Why are you like this?” He asked in a regular tone.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His friend shrugged and grinned at him. “Dunno.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emile’s heart was pounding harder and harder with every firework that went off inside of him, so loud that he could feel it in his ears. His hands were shaking and he was sure his staring was probably very obvious. It was a wonder he hadn’t been noticed by the pair, yet, though a mother with her child had given him a weird look as they walked past him.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, as </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun </span>
  </em>
  <span>as this conversation is-” (Firework.) “Don’t you have work, now? It’ll piss Remy off if you’re late, you know how he gets.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, who cares? Fuck that bitch.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should care, he might fire you.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s my cousin! He won’t fire me.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Remy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re annoying, of course he would.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tiniest of fireworks went off in Emile’s chest at the word ‘annoying’. Apparently, the maybe-soulmate was fond enough of his friend that he only sort of found him annoying.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The friend huffed and crossed his arms. “Whatever. I don’t care.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>care. If you’re unemployed you won’t be able to afford all that inedible food you like so much.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can eat garbage!”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Literally, how are you still alive? You’re going to poison yourself and die young.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emile waited for a firework that never came.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The friend shrugged again, showing that he apparently had no qualms about poisoning himself and dying young. The maybe-soulmate sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a brief moment as he took a deep breath.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What am I, your mother?” He asked his friend. “Go on, shoo!” He made shooing gestures with both hands. “Get to work!”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The friend tilted his head back and cackled, but began to walk backwards in the gestured direction.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha, kinky!” He called out as he turned and continued to walk down the street.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>kinky about me making you go to work so you don’t get fired,” the maybe-soulmate shouted back, louder than he probably intended, as his expression turned sheepish at the few stares that came his way after that.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed again, and Emile was suddenly struck by the realisation that he really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed to talk to this man now, before he walked away, or he might never get the chance to find his soulmate again. And he was now almost certain that this man was his soulmate. So many fireworks at just the right times had to mean something. This couldn’t have just been a coincidence.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, grounding himself and clenching his hands into fists.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, he marched over to the man he hoped was his soulmate – perhaps a little too determined and aggressive, as the man gave him a slightly alarmed, confused look when he stopped in front of him.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing that slipped from Emile’s mouth was a lie.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name isn’t Emile </span>
  <span>Picani</span>
  <span>,” he said, before cringing internally.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps that wasn’t the best introduction.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man gave him a bewildered look, but the moment the lie came out, his hand shot up to cover his heart. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- just- hear me out. Humour me. Please lie to me, just- just quickly. I’m testing something.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Realisation crossed the other man’s face, and his eyes widened. He looked Emile over quickly: a down and up that was over in an instant – just a quick flick of his eyes – but made Emile’s heart beat harder and faster.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s-” the other man breathed. “Okay. Uh... I hate your cardigan.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Firework.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate your hat,” Emile said back, and the reacting twitch of the other man’s eyebrows at just the right time made him feel like he was floating.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your make-up is appalling.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Firework.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like your hair.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow...” the other man looked back at him with an astonished expression that Emile was sure was mirrored on his own face. “That’s- that’s not a coincidence.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emile shook his head. “No, I... I don’t think it is.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s- you’re my-”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-Soulmate,” Emile finished.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man took a deep breath. “Wow...” he repeated.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, the other man lifted and held out one gloved hand for Emile to shake. Emile took it without hesitation, shaking it easily and enthusiastically. Before he could stop himself, the delight that was filling up inside of him bubbled out of him with a giggle, and the other man gave Emile a soft smile in return that made him feel like he could do anything.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Climb a million mountains. Dance amongst a million stars.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like he could do anything, anything he wanted, just as long as this man kept looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Janus,” he finally introduced himself. “Janus Sanders.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Emile Picani.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janus’s smile turned into an amused half-smirk. “Yeah,” he said. “I got that.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, um...” Emile trailed off, finally releasing Janus’s hand and adjusting his pastel pink tie. “I have to go – work. I have a patient coming soon, and I have to finish my paperwork before then. But, um... can I get your number, maybe?”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emile smiled, relieved, especially at the distinct lack of a firework in his chest. The astonishment and enthusiastic smile on Janus’s face spoke for themselves well enough, but it was always nice to know for sure. They exchanged numbers quickly, before pocketing their phones again.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose I’ll see you around, Emile,” Janus said, speaking his name slowly, like he was tasting and savouring it: like dessert.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made Emile feel warm and fuzzy inside.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a horrible day,” Emile said.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Janus’s smile grew at the resulting firework, making Emile’s matching smile grow, too.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a horrible day.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Firework.)</span>
  
</p>
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